The Berlusconi rumpus raises a host of difficult questions about our culture. Not least of all it rouses the puritan in us into argumentative mode. One is compelled to raise moral objections. Of course some people like nothing better than giving their pet puritan a good run in the park. Moral indignation is a favourite emotion of the Anglo Saxon race (far less so with Latins). But along with all my other objections to Berlusconi I now have to add this one – his antics have made me feel puritanical. And not only his antics but also the venal cynical nature of his harem of women. At the moment my fridge contains a jar of ginger left behind by an old flatmate, a half empty carton of milk and some frozen peas. Nevertheless I still wouldn’t sleep with a 74-year-old woman for ten grand. I bet the Taliban are loving Bunga Bunga. You can imagine them passing the words around in a circle and sniggering behind their beards.